ANDROMEDA: Messier 31, NGC 224
by puppylove98
Summary: Sara Ryder, honored as a scientist, renowned as a ground-breaking biotic and deplored as the daughter of a court-marshaled fanatic, finds herself snatched from the safety of her lab and thrust into the harsh realities of a new galaxy. Burdened with the weight of the Initiative, Sara struggles to save the galaxy; however, her alien companion, Jaal, unexpectedly saves her heart.
1. Prologue

A/N: Hey y'all, welcome to the PuppyFanfic family! Grab a snack, sit back, and enjoy yourselves. Comments/Reviews make my day and inspire me to keep writing, so feel free to leave a review or drop me a PM. Criticism is always welcome. All story ownership goes to Bioware; I'm blessed to play in their little sandbox.

Love you, all! Have an awesome day!

-xoxo, PuppyLove

* * *

 _Drip. Drip. Drip._

Though wrapped in the first deep, dreamless sleep that she had been blessed with in months, the repetitive dripping noise weaseled its way into Sara's unwilling subconscious. The chemist within her groaned; a flask had likely tipped over while she snoozed, but the mere thought of rousing herself enough to stop the spillage was enough to set her head spinning. From the acrid, tangy smell of acetone that filled the air, she figured she was left with two options: pry her face off her desk and back into the reality of the lab, or go back to sleep and ignore the probable occurrence of a fire, explosion, or other impending—and likely gruesome—disaster.

The inner debate took her longer to resolve than it likely should have.

Choosing responsibility over the allure of going back to sleep, Sara struggled to pry her eyelids open. Turning her head to peer at the soft, comforting glow of her omni-tool, she noted the time: _0432._

 _"Shit,"_ she internally cursed, shooting out of the chair and locating the troublesome spill of the organic solvent. She had it cleaned within moments; frantically racing, her lab equipment was prepped and put away within seconds more. Of all the god-forsaken days to sleep in, she had chosen perhaps the most important: the day of departure.

Equipment and lab prepped for her permanent retirement, Sara took a moment to organize the papers of her dissertation for her asari assistant. While the asari had a brilliant mind and was technically older than Sara by decades, the the young alien scientist had admired Sara's research enough to volunteer as her assistant throughout the completion of her Prothean dissertation. Her assistance had been invaluable to Sara. When the news of Alec Ryder's dishonorable discharge and Sara's subsequent "departure" from the Alliance program had surfaced, her assistant had neither judged nor asked questions; instead, Vieen had stayed overtime to assist Sara in the completion of her time on Mars. Little did the asari know that Sara had already submitted a digital copy of the paper in Vieen's name. The asari had been more than capable of holding the lead on the project, and Sara would not need the recognition for the Prothean research advancement where she was going. She no longer had anything to prove; not in this galaxy, anyway. There was no need for Prothean research in a galaxy where the Prothean empire hadn't spanned. Would her research even be anything but obsolete by the time she awoke?

She doubted it.

No, it was better to give the credit to someone who both deserved and needed it.

Taking a moment to regard the lab, whose recesses she had spent countless thoughtful hours in and would most likely never see again, she sighed. Fluorescent lights gleamed off of the polished white tile floor. Stainless metallic countertops, littered with sterile equipment, were spread across the lab.

Sara's lab, the Rice University Department of Biotechnology and Small-Particle Research, was renowned for its nanoscale experimentation. At seventeen, Sara had graduated from the University of Oxford with a degree in Biochemistry and minors in Mathematics and Psychology. The Alliance had approached her following her graduation, offering her an officer's position. With the obligation of a five-year service contract, the Alliance had offered to sponsor her through her post-graduate and doctoral degrees. She accepted.

Initially, she had been assigned to peace-keeping duties within the Prothean research station on Mars, but was eventually promoted as research support. Completing her dissertation had been hard while simultaneously juggling her time in the Alliance. With Sara's past experience with biochemistry and high energy physics, her superiors in the Alliance had thought relocating her to this laboratory would be a good fit. They were wrong; it had been a _wonderful_ fit. She had immediately adopted and adapted to the protocols and experiments, even beginning her own.

Eventually, the scientists there had discovered her value; now, there was only one small thing keeping her from sending in her completed research and receiving her doctorate: in a few short hours, she would be put to sleep. Upon waking up, she would be in a new galaxy…

Six hundred years in the future.

She would miss the sterile environment of the lab. Microscopes, histology slides, chemical ingredients, specimen samples and eclectic artifacts littered the surface of the cool, metallic countertops. Such miscellaneous pieces, and yet all had somehow managed to find their homes here.

Pursing her lips in consideration, she supposed she was very similar to that diverse collection; useful to some, alien and strange to others. But regardless of outside opinion, just like those tidbits of alien artifacts, she too had found a home in the lab. And now, black-listed by the court marshal and subsequent dishonorable discharge of her father, she was giving up her life's most idealistic job to pursue a fantasy that would undoubtedly cost thousands of people—if not all one-hundred thousand—their lives.

She snorted; when had she become such a pessimist?

Bending to retrieve the few eclectic belongings she had spread across her station, Sara's gaze paused on a small, metallic frame. The picture within—not digital, but an antique polaroid—dimly reflected the harsh, fluorescent lighting of the lab.

Stroking the cool metal of the frame with the tips of her fingers, Sara couldn't help the smile that creased the outline of her full lips. The picture of the passionate, beautiful woman framed within the metal outline stirred her resolve. Though she hadn't been initially _excited_ about her impending trip, Sara had decided that it was in this new place, this new galaxy, that she would find her purpose. It was time for a new start, and Sara was determined to make her mother proud.

Eyebrows lowering with a sneer, the smile instantly dissolved from her face. She wouldn't even bother trying to make her father proud; she wasn't even sure if such a thing was possible. Lost in her own—admittedly bitter—thoughts, Sara didn't hear the whoosh of the opening door.

"Good lord Sara, it's only five in the morning and you're already managing to look surly," jested a smooth, slightly husky voice. Sara looked up to see who was interrupting her inner diatribe, sneer instantly replaced with a grin. A tall man reclined in the doorway, muscled arms crossed his chest in nonchalance. His brown hair was cut close to his head, the sides cropped in a practical, militaristic style. Stubble lined his jaw—not more than a few days old—and a cocky smile tugged at the corners of his familiarly-full lips. His blue eyes, pupils rimmed with molten gold, twinkled in good humor. Any other woman in the galaxy might have thought him handsome, but Sara still saw the lanky seventeen year old whose arms and legs were too long for his quickly-growing body.

"Scott!" she exclaimed, probably a little too excitedly, while stuffing the polaroid in her bag. Mouth quirked into a huge grin, she struggled to speak as she reached out to him with a joyful embrace. "What are you doing here? How did you even get _in_ he-?"

Her exclamations were replaced by a gleeful squeal as he picked her up, bodily swinging her around the lab.

"Just stopping by to make sure you weren't planning on ditching," Scott said, grin stretched across his face.

"You got here just in time," she said, a cheeky grin on her face. "You almost lost me."

"And suffer alone through a six-hundred year road trip with Dad?" Scott asked, feigning offense. "I don't think so."

"No, you just had to drag me into it, too," she replied sourly, rolling her eyes. "It'll be a grand ole family reunion."

"Give him a chance, Sara," Scott said, voice gentling in understanding as his hands encircled her forearms, fingertips coming to rest on her skin. He ducked his head slightly, catching her amber gaze with his own. "This is it, little duck. A new start. A new life. A _better_ life."

"Can't say that I'm entirely convinced," she said with a longing glance at the gleaming genome mapper that proudly displayed a holographic segment of Prothean genetic code.

"Believe me, you'll be Queen of the Andromeda galaxy before you know it," Scott said, flashing her one of his most convincing smiles. She looked up at him, unable to stop her return smile.

"Though I have to admit," Scott said, releasing her and examining the lab. "you're giving up quite the life here."

"You almost sound impressed," Sara said dryly, turning her focus to her terminal. She tapped out a few delicate strokes, transferring her data to her omni-tool. It hummed happily in response.

"I am," he replied easily, leaning against the counter beside her. "You know I've always been impressed with you. _You_ inherited all of the smarts."

"Ha! When did you get a sense of humor?" She asked him, clicking off her terminal. She turned to him, meeting his gaze. He hadn't stopped watching her, his face full of gentle concern.

"Sara," Scott said gently. She looked away from him again, struggling to find something to distract her from the empty ache in her chest. Her gaze fell on the transmission microscope in the corner of the room. It had only arrived a few days ago; she had barely had enough time to read the manual, much less delve into its intricate capabilities. It was an incredible machine; it enabled scientists, such as herself, to view and analyze materials smaller than a nanometer with startling clarity.

"Are you ignoring me to ogle a microscope?" Scott asked, stepping to stand in her direct line of sight. She sighed; he always had a way of snatching her mind back to reality.

"It's a very nice microscope," she defended.

"Are you worried about being stuck with Dad?" Scott asked. Sara grimaced; he had always had such a proficient way of reading her.

"I wouldn't say "worried" is the right term," Sara replied, grimacing. "You know that we didn't part under the best circumstances."

Scotts's lips pressed together, frowning. He nodded in understanding. "I know your relationship is rocky, but you have to admit that this seems to be the best time for change. Give him a chance, Sara."

"You're supposed to tell me what I want to hear," she said, smiling at her brother.

"I'd rather tell you what you need to hear."

"You always do," Sara said. Her heart felt warm; being around her twin brother always had that effect. She shook off her lab coat, fetching her clearance badge out of the pocket.

"You know how much I love reminiscing," Scott said, bending to retrieve her bag from the floor. "but we _really_ need to leave."

"Why?" Sara asked, glancing at her omni-tool. _0447\. "_ Are we in a rush?"

"Well _you_ might not be, but.…" Scott said, avoiding her gaze. He placed his hand against her back, pushing her out the door.

"Scott," Sara said, a sinking feeling in her chest. "Why do you look so guilty?"

"Let's just say that, unlike you, I didn't have one of those fancy top-secret clearance badges," Scott said, voice taking on a much higher octave. Just as he finished speaking, a high whine filled the air. The fluorescent lights of the hallway snapped off, switching to the dull emergency-red flood lights. She quickly identified the high-pitched whine as the laboratory's blaring alarm system.

"Come on, come on, come one," Scott said excitedly, pushing her through the hallway. "We have an intergalactic transport to catch!"

"Damn it, Scott," Sara squealed, throwing her head back in laughter. She chased her brother down the hall, hand in hand, until her segment of the lab was out of sight. It was true that she was leaving behind the benefits of her past life; however, she also had the opportunity to leave behind the scars, the pain, and the mistakes.

Andromeda would be the start to a new life. A _better_ life.

She never looked back.


	2. Via Lactea: The Milky Way

A/N: Welcome back, fam jam! Feel free to leave a comment, review, criticism, or PM. It seriously makes my day, y'all. (:

All rights go to Bioware; I only play in their magical melting pot.

* * *

"Every great moment in our history began with a dream," Sara spoke into her recorder, voice low and calm. She stood before a window, admiring the view from her transportation shuttle. Earth stretched out below her in its splendor; the bright lights of highly civilized areas blazed through the night sky. The orange veins snaked across the planet's otherwise murky surface. The oceans looked black, mysterious and intimidating with their churning tides. The shuttle travelled over the dark side of the planet, but Sara could see the sun kissing the curve of Earth's far side.

Sara sighed. She had never quite thought of Earth as _home,_ but it was the closest thing to home that she had known. Her reflection in the shuttle's window caught her attention; white Initiative armor clung to her slight form. Her hair, shockingly white, was pulled back into a tight, long braid. Her eyes all but glowed in the windows reflective surface, eerily gold. Her coloration was unnatural, almost predatory. Gifts from her mother's Eezo experimentations, no doubt.

Shoulders straight with hands clasped tightly behind her back, she forced herself to mentally relax; she wasn't in the Alliance anymore. There was no need for her to stand at rigid attention, ready to bolt at a superior's command. However, she did appreciate the transformation that her rigid stance and Initiative armor gave her; it made her look bigger, tougher, perhaps even stronger, than she felt.

Before setting out, Sara had made a mental point to document their journey. She was sure that historians would be present on the Ark's, but it never hurt to have a first-hand recording from someone who would see everything up close and personal. She doubted her role in Andromeda's exploration would ever be important enough for someone to watch her little documentary, but who knew? Maybe it would be important to someone someday. At any rate, the scientist within her couldn't resist chronicling the expedition.

"Each bold leap forward was achieved by those wiling to do anything to obtain it. We are, all of us, leaving behind families, homes—the very birthplace of our species," Sara continued talking into the camera. "Some, for discovery—to see the unknown. For others, a new start. But today, for whatever our reasons, we take the first steps to a new future for humanity. Today, we begin to make our dream reality."

Sara caught her breath as the Initiative shuttle approached the moon, eventually slingshotting around its curved surface. She spotted research stations on the surface of the grey planet; some rounded atriums, various long stretches of traveling passageways, and a few ringed research stations. There wasn't an abundance of structures, but enough to spot its grey surface with soft, glowing lights. With the discovery of the Mars Prothean archives, humanity's space flight capabilities had been jumped forwards centuries. While the moon's very basic colonization had once been a victory, its lack of resources prevented it from becoming a lucrative property. It was a beautiful sight, but not nearly as extraordinary as the one that loomed behind the planet.

A ship loomed behind the moon's rotating surface, massive in size and gloriously constructed. Its cylindrical center rotated in the horizon; the lights of the thrusters turned on, powering up. The main arms of the ship were outstretched towards the stars, as if it could pluck them from the night sky. The smooth, slate surface of the hull gleamed, reflecting the light from Earth's sun.

It was a massive, mechanical beast of engineering so ingenious that it caught her breath. She heard herself let out a slight "ooo" at the sight.

"She's quite the sight, isn't she?" A male voice said to her left. She turned her head slightly, regarding him. He was a head taller than she, standing at perhaps six feet. Dark skin and hair matched his chocolate brown eyes. His hair, short and curly, stuck out at odd angles. His eyes were kind, framed by dark, thick lashes. He was clad in the same Initiative armor that all of the shuttle's passengers wore, herself included. "Almost ten years in the making. Hard to believe we're actually going."

"I visited a few times during the Ark's construction," Sara replied, turning back to admire the view. "It was little more than a skeleton, then; certainly doesn't compare to this."

"Visited the Ark?" The man question, raising an eyebrow. She nodded.

"The propulsion systems have an emergency mechanical conversion, completely independent of mass effect energy," she explained, eyes fixed on the Ark. "I took a vacation from my lab on Mars to assist with the development of a fuel supply. Some imbecile had suggested the Initiative use a nuclear pulse propulsion; thankfully, I got there in time to propose nitrogen tetroxide and hydrazine. Bringing it back to the classics, am I right?"

"Uh," the man stammered, rubbing the back of his neck with an embarrassed chuckle. "right. Can't say I got more than two words of that, sorry."

"Ah, no need to apologize. I'm afraid my time spent in research has ruined me to polite society," Sara said, blush creeping onto her cheeks.

"Hey now! I never claimed to be polite," the man said, waggling his eyebrows in her direction.

"Hey Kosta, you harassing my sister?" Scott's voice called from across the shuttle. He strode up to the two, inserting himself in the middle. Throwing his arm across the man's shoulder, Scott whispered in a conspiratorial tone, "I'll warn you; she might be pretty, but she bites."

"Only when you're being an unbearable jackass," Sarah said in indignation, hitting him across the shoulder. Scott laughed, completely unfazed.

"Sister?" Kosta asked, eyebrows shooting up in surprise. "So you're Alec's other kid, then? Guess that explains the scientific mumbo-jumbo."

"Scientific "mumbo-jumbo" runs in the family," she said with a smile, turning back to the beautiful view.

"If it runs in the family, then how do you explain that sorry lout?" Kosta asked in a lowered voice, lips stretched grin.

"I heard that," Scott grumbled. He pulled Liam's head down, scrubbing the already-wild hair. Sarah smiled at the two; they couldn't have known each other for all that long, but they already appeared to be fast friends. Her smile faded; sometimes she wondered if Scott would have been happier with a brother. Instead, he had gotten her.

"Anyway," Kosta said, stretching out the word. He cleared his throat, smoothing his hair with his hands. He stretched out his right hand to her, offering a friendly smile. "The name's Liam Kosta. You, pretty lady, may call me Liam."

"Gross," Scott said, loudly protesting the flirtation.

"What?" Liam said, feigning innocence. "You can't blame a man for trying. I'm about to go through a six-hundred year dry spell, after all."

"She's not interested," Scott said dryly.

"I guess we'll have to see about that," Liam said, waggling his eyebrows at Scott.

"Touch her, and I'll kill you," Scott said, punching Liam in the shoulder. His tone was light with laughter, despite his harsh words. Or, that's how Sarah was sure it would have seemed to someone who didn't know him like she did. However, she heard the strained undertone to his voice; he meant what he said. And he was right, of course. She wouldn't be interested; she had never been interested in a man—or anyone of either gender, for that matter—and knew she never would be.

After everything that had happened, it simply wasn't possible.

Sara snuck away from the two arguing baboons, intent on studying the stars from a different port. She was about to take a six-hundred year long nap and wake up in Andromeda, after all; she had to get in her fill of the Milk Way while she could. Settling into a corner seat, she popped in her headphones, intent on enjoying the last views of the galaxy she had once called home.


	3. So This Is How a Heart Breaks

The scientists of the Initiative program labelled their extended hibernation as "cryosleep," though in Sara's estimation, that was a misnomer. A more accurate term might have been suspended catabolic animation; it was the inducement of a momentary body function cessation. The hypometabolic state preserved the body's mental and physiological capabilities for centuries of cryogenic confinement. With the body's suspension, all physiological and neurological functions were halted. Heartbeat stopped, cellular respiration halted, mitosis cycles were interrupted, electrical signals in the brain stopped firing—for all intents and purposes, the subjects were suspended from reality.

Human beings—as well as the other Milky Way species—were unable to survive suspended animation naturally. The cryogenic temperatures were simply too cold for the body to naturally process without sustaining cellular damage. Throughout the process of chemically preparing the body for suspended animation, a medically-induced coma prevented the brain from registering outside stimuli or firing thought processes.

Knowing this, Sara was surprised at her own lucidity. Her mind registered the happenings around her body: a deep humming of active medical equipment, the cool, metallic surface pressed beneath her body, and the low murmur of several voices. A breeze seemed to glide against her face. The shock alone was almost enough to jolt her from her half-sleep; she should've been locked in a cryo pod, sheltered from the currents of the environment stabilizers. At the sharp sting of a needle being removed from her arm, Sara's eyes shot open in alarm. This wasn't right; she shouldn't have been awake.

Bolting into an upright position, Sara gasped, sucking in deep lungfuls of re-circulated air. She looked around the room in shock; she was not in the medical center where she had been put to sleep, but in the Cryogenics Bay of the Ark Hyperion. Two people stood before her, consumed with the reports on their omni-tools. Confusion rattled her senses. Her brain was desperate to process the new information.

Suddenly, it dawned on Sara that she was being awoken. While she knew that her brain wouldn't be active during the six-hundred year stasis, the feeling was still disconcerting. For Sara, six-hundred years had gone by in the blink of an eye.

"We made it," she whispered to herself, disbelieving. It seemed strange to utter those words. In truth, Sara had half-believed that once she was suspended, she would never be re-animated. The Initiative, though well thought out and processed for almost a decade, had a hurried finish. The departure date had been moved up several years, seemingly randomly. Part of Sara feared that rushed departure date would mean mission failure.

She must've let out some kind of strangled gasp, because the attention of the medical technicians went to her. She placed her hands on the medical table beneath her, attempting to stand. She wobbled, knees buckling. The male attendant rushed to her. He placed an arm around her shoulders, gently lowering her back into a sitting position.

"Deep breaths," he said to her, pulling up her medical charts. "You're gonna want to take it easy."

"I've been taking it easy for six hundred years," Sara replied with a frown, once again attempting to stand. Her legs seemed to protest the movement, but otherwise held fast. The male attendant objected to her sudden movement, but the female attendant held out an arm, cutting off his protests.

"This is Ryder, Sara. Recon Specialist," the woman read from her medical report, directing the words to her fellow technician. Eyes going slightly wide, she continued. " _Pathfinder_ Mission Team."

"Pathfinder Team, eh?" The male technician questioned, eyebrows shooting up. Sara understood his look of surprise. She couldn't blame the man; she hardly looked like a combat recon specialist. Her body was thin and lithe, not at all bulky with muscle. With her casual Initiative clothing and long braid of hair, she supposed she resembled any other Initiative scientist. With her passion of science and high IQ, she certainly would have fit the mold. However, what the technician couldn't see was what made Sara unlike any of the other scientists; her marksmanship, honed by almost two decades of training, held deadly accuracy. In addition, Sara's insight into multicultural psychology and sociology had a profound impact on her aptitude as a reconnaissance expert. And, if both her weapons and academic training failed, she had her—admittedly unstable—biotics to assist her.

"The ones finding us a home," the man continued, slightly awestruck.

"Can you make it somewhere tropical?" the female technician enthusiastically asked, only partially joking. "Nice, warm ocean. Summer year round…"

"Well, we can certainly try," Sara said, stifling a yawn. She couldn't help adding a sarcastic comment; a headache began to pulse at her temples and waking up from naps had always made her cranky. "but I assume that breathable air will be higher on the list of priorities."

"How about we get her a cup of coffee first?" the man asked, chuckling low. Sara couldn't have agreed more. Pressing a hand between her shoulders with another holding her left forearm, the male technician helped her walk from the cryogenics lab.

 _"This is it,"_ Sara thought, letting go of a small gasp. _"Into the great unknown."_

She didn't know what this strange new galaxy held for her, but she was ready to find out.

As it was, the "great unknown" turned out to be an extended pit-stop in the medical bay. Despite her disappointment at her delay, Sara did have to admire the stream-lined beauty and efficiency of the place. A few medical personnel wandered about the med bay, treating their patients for stasis sickness. Some felt the effects of the cryogenics worse than others; while Sara was impressed with the speed of her recovery, a man across the lab was hurling into a medical waste container. She grimaced at the sound. Looking around, she decided to turn her attention elsewhere.

Her omni-tool blinked with a message notification, casting a soft, orange glow across the inner surface of her forearm. Reaching over, she let out a few quick taps with her long fingers. A video message appeared on the screen. A woman's face—Jien Garson, Sara believed—popped up on the screen, waiting to be played.

"Hello, Traveler, and welcome to your first day in Andromeda!" A loud, overly-enthusiastic female voice greeted her. Sara grimaced, taking a deep inhale of her hot, dark coffee. After six hundred years, even the bitter scent of the coffee grounds smelled divine. Absently, she wondered how Scott was handling his wake-up call. She hadn't seen her younger brother in the medical bay. She smiled; Scott had always loved sleeping in.

"This is the dawn of a new era for all of us. As you recover from stasis, know that you're in good hands. In a few short hours, you'll be leaving the Hyperion and joining thousands of your fellow colonists as you chase your fortunes and build the new life you've always dreamed about. It's been a long wait—but I promise you it will be worth it. Jien Garson, founder of the Andromeda Initiative," the voice concluded the video message, wide smile stretched across her face. Sara switched off the video recording, cup of coffee clasped between her hands.

Sara studied the dark liquid in her coffee mug, taking a moment to overview what she knew about Jien Garson—which, admittedly, wasn't much. An extremely charismatic billionaire, the woman was as eccentric as she was passionate. As the founder for the entire Andromeda Initiative, Sara knew that it was Jien Garson who had secured their place in this unknown galaxy. Garson had been the spearhead to the entire project, but hadn't been able to do it alone. With the intention of picking out the best of the best, Garson had set out to find men and women capable of helping to lead the Initiative. This desire to find extraordinary leaders was what led the woman to Alec Ryder, Sara's father. As the Human Pathfinder and chief developer of an extremely progressive AI, Alec would be Sara's superior for an unknown number of years.

She sighed, anxiety curling within her stomach. Sara and her father had been close once, but their familial relationship had died when her mother had passed. Nothing had been the same, after that; fights increased, visits decreased, and eventually, they had stopped communicating altogether. Now, after almost a year of no speaking, anxiety filled Sara at the thought of seeing him again.

She was thankful that Scott would be with her throughout the entire ordeal.

Lost in her thoughts, Sara didn't hear the approach of the asari doctor.

"Sara Ryder?" The doctor asked, voice cool and soothing. Sara sat up, regarding the doctor before her. The asari was a pleasant shade of blue, like most of their species. Her faced was marked with a singular white line, running from the top of her lower lip to the bottom of her chin. The woman held several gadgets; Sara cringed at the sight of them. She _hated_ going to the doctor. "Let's get you checked out."

A video screen played in the background while the asari doctor palpated around Sara's throat, behind her ears and underneath her jawline. Sara only half-listened to the pre-recorded message. Much like Jien Garson's wakeup greeting, the voice held a tourist's enthusiasm.

"After discovering an unusually high ratio of potential candidates, or "Golden Worlds", the Heleus cluster was selected as our destination," the welcome video droned in the background.

"Look here," the asari said, tilting Sara's chin up to do a scan of her eyes. She could see the doctor visibly flench when Sara's gaze met hers. Sara was accustomed to such reactions; as Scott would so lovingly say, her gaze was "damn spooky." Unfortunately for her, she had inherited the strange golden-yellow of her father's eyes. Turning away, the doctor tapped something into the data pad she held.

"Now you are a part of the first wave of arks arriving in Andromeda: our new home for humanity," the video message finished.

"Makes it sound so easy, doesn't it?" The asari asked conversationally, head nodding to the video screen on the wall.

"I certainly hope not," Sara said with a smile. "My brother's been wanting a little adventure before being forced to settle down."

"Well buckle up," the doctor said, regarding Sara. Diverting her attention back to her data pad, the doctor said, "sounds like he'll get his wish."

"Yeah?" Sara asked, eyebrows raised in question.

"Look over here now," the doctor said, a singular finger raised in the air. Sara followed the fingers with her gaze until the doctor continued. "Pathfinder wants you all on your feet right away. He said 'mission ready' within the hour."

"Any idea why?" Sara questioned. She didn't like the sound of this; it wasn't what the Pathfinder team had planned in their mission briefing, and Sara had yet to see any sign of Scott.

"No, but I'm guessing that's where your brother's 'adventure' comes in. Okay, everything checks out. Just one more thing before I send you on your way," the asari said, walking from the front of Sara's patient bed to a terminal near the back wall. When the asari moved, it opened Sara's line of vision to the bed across from hers. In it sat a familiar face, though it took her a moment to register where she had met his dark eyes and curly hair.

 _"Liam,"_ she mentally placed. As if she had spoken the words out loud, he looked at her, offering her a friendly smile and wave. She offered a tentative wave in return. Grimacing at the awkward motion, she shook her head.

Find an undiscovered Prothean ruin? No problem.

Take out a dime with a shoddy sniper rifle from a thousand meters? Yeah, sure.

Talk the ears off of a salarian scientist? She could do that.

But interacting with men? She grimaced at the thought; she had _never_ been good at that.

"Let's test your SAM implant. SAM, are you monitoring?" The doctor spoke, offering a blessed distraction. After a moment with no response, she pressed. "SAM, are you online?"

"Yes, Dr. T'Perro," a flat male voice spoke. Sara smiled at the familiar voice; while she hadn't agreed with many of her father's decisions, she did have to give the man credit for creating SAM. During his development, she had always had stimulating conversations with the artificial intelligence. "Good morning, Sara. Are you feeling well?"

"I just need a second to get my bearings," Sara replied, voice gravelly and hoarse. "Is there something wrong with my implant?"

"No, just a routine check. After being in stasis for so long, we want to make sure the connection's still live," Dr. T'Perro said reassuringly.

"As I am now the team's mission computer, your well-being is my primary concern," SAM added, voice holding little inflection.

"Assuming the implants work as advertised," Dr. T'Perro said dryly. "Now that your father has finished his development, SAM will see what you see—in theory. We won't know for sure until we get you in the field. How are you feeling, otherwise?"

"Ready to get to it," Sara said, draining the last bit of her coffee. Her heart quickened its pace, excited and trepidatious about what the mission might hold.

"Readings confirmed," SAM said. "I detect an increased level of adrenaline in your system. The neural implant is functioning properly."

"Can't explore space without a little caffeine," Sara said, raising her coffee mug at Dr. T'Perro's questioning glance.

"Well, you're all done," Dr. T'Perro replied, tapping several more keys before switching off the data pad. "Let's get you on your way."

The doctor rested a cool hand on Sara's back, helping her stand. While not extremely affected by stasis sickness, Sara's legs still wobbled at the sudden movement. While turning to exit the medical bay, Dr. T'Perro called after her.

"Actually, Sara, you may want to stay around while we revive your brother. It always helps to see a familiar face," Dr. T'Perro said with a smile, directing Sara to a stasis pod in the far corner of the med bay.

"I would, thank you," Sara said with a smile, appreciative of the doctor's thoughtfulness. Her heart gave a happy leap at the thought of reviving Scott. They had made a bet before leaving Earth about who would be the first to wake up. As always, she had beaten Scott to the punch by a few short minutes.

However, when the loud groaning of bending metallic hull filled the air, and the bay's fluorescent lights started flickering, Sara knew her universe was about to go to shit. A heavy impact shook the medical bay, throwing most of its inhabitants across the room. The screech of tearing metal filled the air, matched only by the sound of breaking glass and ship-wide screaming. Sara crouched, heart beginning to hammer in her chest. The entire room was moving, the floor shifting into a steep incline. Dr. T'Perro lay flat on the ground beside her, anxiously scanning the room for a sign of what had happened.

Turning to check on the good doctor, Sara realized too late that a stasis pod had shifted across the floor and was now barreling directly towards them. Making a split-second decision, Sara grabbed the asari doctor, rolling the woman underneath her. Anticipating the deadly impact, Sara held her breath with clenched teeth.

However, the impact never came.

The room suddenly lost its artificial gravity, sending the medical staff and patients floating lazily into the air.

"What's happening?" Dr. T'Perro asked frantically, clutching Sara's shoulders.

"Just hang on," Sara said, pushing off of miscellaneous objects to orient herself. "Try to brace yourself."

Thankfully, a blonde-haired woman appeared on the scene, floating through the entrance on the far side of the med bay. Sara recognized the woman as Cora Harper, powerful biotic and second in-line for being human Pathfinder. Sara didn't envy the woman of her position.

Guiding herself against the walls closet the entrance, the blonde Lieutenant called, "This is Cora! I'm at the cryo bay; brace for a reset."

Sara, quite unlike her asari companion, landed on the balls of her feet with a grunt. Bending over to help up Dr. T'Perro, Sara turned her attention to the Pathfinder's second-in-command.

"What happened?" Sara asked, flinching against the sound of screeching metal.

"We're not sure," Cora said, shaking her head. "Sensors are scrambled. But it's good to see you up; feels like _centuries_ since we spoke."

"Guess it's been a day or two," Sara replied, mouth corner quirking into a smile at the woman's joke.

"This is the Pathfinder," a loud, deep voice boomed over the ships intercoms, interrupting their conversation. Sara's stomach tightened in recognition. The voice, domineering and powerful, belonged to the Pathfinder; her father. Sara crossed her arms, sinking into a hip as her father continued. "Mission teams, continue preparations. Cora, Ryders, report to the bridge."

"You heard him," Cora said, inclining her head towards the exit. "Let's get to the—"

"Uh," a male voice called to them, clearing his throat. "We have a problem over here."

Sara turned around, inclining to see what the male technician had called them over to see. He squatted next to a stasis chamber. Walking towards the pod, Sara's heart caught in her throat. The pod had obviously been damaged in the crash; the siding had been dented, wires sparked in protest from the damage, and a long crack webbed across the pod's glass surface.

"It's Scott Ryder," the man said quietly, stepping aside as she approached. Falling onto her knees beside the pod, she sucked in a sharp breath, attempting to ignore the bile that rose in her throat. Reaching out a hand to stroke the pod's cool metallic surface, Sara bit her lip. Tears welled in her eyes, threatening to spill.

"Sara," Dr. T'Perro said quietly, placing a hand on her shoulder. The doctor's grip was gentle, comforting.

"Is my brother okay?" Sara asked, eyes fixed on the pod.

"Don't worry. Scott's fine. His vitals are strong, but the revival procedure was interrupted," the asari explained.

"What's the prognosis?" Sara asked, heart pounding in her chest. "SAM?"

"My connection to Scott's implant was suspended. However, his pulse, respiration and brain activity are all normal," SAM said, metallic voice cool and detached.

"To be on the safe side, we'll need to keep him in a low-level coma for a while, then let his body regain consciousness naturally," Dr. T'Perro said, voice reassuring. "He'll be fine."

"Thanks, Lexi," Cora said. "Keep us updated. Come on, Sara. The Pathfinder wants us on the bridge. "

* * *

Sara couldn't have said where everything had gone to shit. Thinking back on it, it could've been before the mission to Habitat 7 had even started, when the scourge had crippled the Ark Hyperion. Or, more personally speaking, when Scott's pod had crashed through the ship, placing her twin brother into a coma. Of course, it hadn't helped when their illustrious Pathfinder, her own damn father, had practically demanded an emergency landing on a planet when their pathfinder team hadn't been prepared to investigate. Or maybe things had truly started going downhill when lightning crashed into the side of her transport shuttle, forcing half of the Pathfinder's team out into the open atmosphere and plummeting towards the planet's surface. However, even _that_ hadn't been as bad as when their team discovered Andromeda's first alien race, first contact had been blown to hell, and half her team had been left injured, dead, or mentally scarred for life.

Given the skull-splitting migraine that pounded at her temples, Sara suspected whatever occurred after that had been even worse. However, everything seemed to blur in Sara's memory. She recalled being reunited with her team's second transport shuttle, but the rest of her memory seemed… fuzzy, somehow; like her headache wouldn't permit her thoughts to process.

"Welcome back, Sara," SAM spoke, jarring Sara from her thoughts. Slowly, she blinked open her eyes. She was in a dark room. It was clearly of ark construction. Apparently, the Pathfinder team had made it back to the ark, though her memory still eluded her. She lay against a smooth cloth surface; someone had deposited her on a cot. Sitting up, Sara let out a loud groan of protest.

"What happened?" she asked SAM, voice hoarse. Her body throbbed in agonized protest.

"You were clinically dead for twenty-two seconds," SAM replied, voice flat and metallic.

" _What?"_ Sara stammered, shaking her head for clarity. "What happened? Did the rest of the team make it?"

"Hey," a male voice said softly. Sara glanced in the direction of the voice, noticing Liam for the first time. He sat on the floor across from her. He still wore his Initiative armor; it gleamed a harsh white against the dark room. Crimson spots spattered across his forearm braces. Though his skin was naturally dark, his eyes looked unnaturally dark and bruised. "You're still with us. Guys, get to SAM node. Ryder's awake."

Sara slid to the edge of her cot, gritting her teeth against the pulse that drummed in her ears. She imagined this is what Scott felt like on those many mornings when he had partied too hard the night before and had earned a nasty hangover in return.

"Who were you talking to?" Liam asked, placing a hand on her back. He helped her sit comfortably on the edge of her cot.

"SAM," Sara groaned, clutching her head in her hands. She closed her eyes, relishing the feel of her cool skin against the heat of her temples.

"I didn't hear him," Liam replied skeptically. A moment later, Sara heard the _whoosh_ of an opening door. Cracking open an eye, Sara saw Lexi race into the room, Cora fast behind her.

"You're up," the doctor said, rushing to her side. Holding up more of her medical instruments, it seemed like deja vu when the woman held one up and said "Look here. And here."

Turning her head to follow Dr. T'Perro's instruments, Sara barely caught a dull gleam of metal beside her. It took her a moment to process what it was.

"My father…" Sara said, reaching out to pick up the dark helmet. It was her father's; the N7 insignia blazed on the side of it, fierce and proud. Sara's stomach sank as she looked to the others. In a room full of such courageous people, she couldn't understand why none of them had the bravery to meet her gaze. "Where…?"

"It was your life or his…" Cora finally said, breaking the palpable silence of the room. "And he…chose you."

Then, it dawned on her. The moment when the mission had _truly_ gone to hell. Though the entire recon had been a struggle and had nearly claimed her life multiple times, the worst hadn't come until the end.

She recalled meeting up with the Pathfinder team's second shuttle, body blazing in painful protest. Though she could feel them mending, Sara new she had sustained multiples injuries. The pain was intense, but none of that had compared to the agony of when her father had looked at her, pride clearly gleaming in his familiar avian-yellow eyes; to the flutter her heart had given when he placed his hand on her shoulder, told her she had done good work, and had promised to rebuild their family. He had told her in this new galaxy, nothing was worth more than reclaiming the time he had lost with his children. Nothing was worth more than his _family._

Nothing was worth more than _her._

Looking back on it, she believed that's when things had _truly_ gone to shit.

 _After interacting with a strange atmospheric tower of alien origin, the two Ryders had been blown off the side of the side of the architecture; unknowingly, her father had activated the tower's dormant defense mechanism._

 _Sara crashed against the hard surface of the ground. Distantly, she registered the sound crunching bone. Her breath had been knocked from her lungs; her shoulder and right leg screamed in agonizing protest. Sara tried to recover her breath. Her lungs convulsed as she gasped, attempting to suck in air. However, the more she gasped for air, the more it seemed to starve her lungs of oxygen. Growing increasingly dizzy and disoriented, Sara scrambled across the dirt ground, attempting to locate her father._

 _In a moment of frenzied panic, her brain registered why her body failed to process the oxygen it so desperately needed. The visor on her helmet had been completely shattered. Earlier, Sara had measured the atmospheric composition herself; it had changed throughout the decades. She knew human life could no longer be sustained on the high-nitrogen low-oxygen gas ratio. It would only take a few seconds for her to lose consciousness, and only a few minutes for her to sustain permanent brain damage._

 _After that, she would die._

 _Fingers clutched into the dirt, her last thoughts were peaceful. They were of home; of her family. Sara thought of her mother, beautiful and fiercely intelligent; of Scott, strong and dedicated. She even thought of her father, with his dreamer's idealism and driven passion. Regret coiled in her gut. She wished that she had some time with him, just a little bit of time, to fix their broken relationship; to put their past behind them and be a family again._

 _Though she wished for more time, she simply didn't have it. Blackness encroached on the edges of her vision. She involuntarily gasped, lungs aching._

 _"Repeat, we need an emergency extraction_ now!" _Sara heard a voice yell in the distance. It was her father; he sounded angry, even desperate. Through the blackness, she saw his silhouette approach her. He fell to his knees before her, strong hands tugging her to him. She looked at him through her broken visor, trying her best to smile reassuringly. Her mother wouldn't have wanted him to worry; she would have wanted Sara to be strong. Though she tried to keep them at bay, Sara felt hot tears run down her cheeks._

 _"We don't have that long," Sara heard her father quietly say into the comm. He reached for her face, tugging off the broken remains of her helmet. She didn't understand what he was trying to do until it was too late._

 _Alec Ryder: human Pathfinder, N7, brilliant strategist and scientist, and father. While he was all of that and more, he was still trying to sacrifice himself for_ her.

 _Sara attempted to scramble away from him, pushing against his armored chest. However, her efforts were in vain. Stars danced in her vision as she felt him replace her broken helmet with his whole one. Through her ragged gasps, she heard the helmet's seal click into place._

 _"Deep breaths," her father said to her, holding her shoulders._

 _"What are you…?" Sara tried to ask, fingers scrambling at the helmet's seal. She tried to tug off the helmet, to tell him he was making a mistake. However, the words wouldn't come; treacherous coughs wracked her lungs instead._

 _"Initiating transfer," she heard SAM say. Her father grabbed her gloved hands, firmly holding them still in his own. He smiled at her, face peaceful. His eyes gleamed with pride. He mouthed something to her, but she couldn't understand him; he grabbed her, clutching her to his chest. As she fell against him, the world went black._

"I'm so sorry, Sara," Cora said, dragging Sara back from her memories. Cora placed a tentative hand on her shoulder. "I know this must be a blow."

"I…" Sara tried to say, voice cracking. "I can't believe he's gone. One minute, everything was fine and then… he…"

"I know he could be distant, but he once said that when his time came, he wanted to go out amongst stars no one had seen before," Cora said. Sara clinched her teeth until her jaw ached. Though Cora's words had meant to be comforting, they only served to remind Sara of her father's greatness; of all he had sacrificed for her. She bit the inside of her cheek in an attempt to distract herself from the pain that threatened to engulf her.

"What're we doing in SAM node?" Sara demanded, pushing the pain down. She could ignore it until she was alone. She could deal with it later.

"SAM is now part of you, in a way we don't entirely understand," Dr. T'Perro explained. "It played havoc with your brain."

"SAM?" Sara questioned. In the years she had known the AI, he had never done something without reason or acted without his creator's best interests in mind.

"Your father authorized the transfer of Pathfinder authority to you," SAM explained. If Sara hadn't known better, she would had said the AI's voice almost sounded… _sad._

 _"_ Shouldn't that be Cora?" She asked, stomach clenched in anxiety. She didn't like where this conversation was heading.

"In theory," Cora said with a sigh. The woman straightened, locking her hands behind her back. "In reality, you're the new Pathfinder, Sara."

"You're shitting me," Sara scoffed, eyebrows shooting into her hairline. "You _can't_ be serious."

"What's the matter?" Liam asked with a smile. "I think you're up for it."

 _"_ I'm a _scientist._ I'm not a Pathfinder! I haven't trained, and this goes against all forms of protocol," Sara said, eyes shooting around the room in disbelief. "Cora, are you really _okay_ with this?"

"I won't stand in the way of your dad's decision," Cora said. Sara shook her head in disbelief.

"It's all academic, anyway," Dr. T'Perro interrupted, walking to a nearby console. "SAM is linked to your mind on a deeper level now. Trying to untangle it could kill you."

Sara scoffed.

"Seems like it would be worth a shot," she said, shaking her head. "I haven't _trained._ I don't have any of my father's traits; his drive, his passion, his idealism, his dreams for Andromeda…that was all _him._ I'm only here because my half-dead brother convinced me to come. I'm a _scientist_ for Christ's sake!" Sara all but screamed, pulse pounding in her ears. They had all gone _crazy._ This hadn't been the plan; thousands of people counted on the Pathfinder to find them a home. She would let them down, or worse, get them all _killed_. Sara didn't even know where to begin.

"I know this is hard, but we need to think about our next step. A lot of people are counting on us," Cora said, echoing Sara's thoughts.

"Is the ark still drifting?" Sara asked, turning her thoughts towards their most immediate issue.

"That's the thing. Whatever your dad did at that tower, it saved the day. Some sort of atmosphere scrubber," Liam said.

"The energy cloud thinned out. We're on our way to the rally point now; should be at the Nexus soon," Cora continued for him.

"She needs to rest first," Dr. T'Perro protested.

"She's got two hours," Cora said dismissively, turning on her heel towards the exit. Stopping to meet Sara's gaze, she said, "We'll need our Pathfinder for this."

Sara sat on her cot in stunned silence as the three exited the room, head hung low. She held her temples between her hands, rubbing circles at her piercing headache. Grief clenched her heart.

"Oh, I uh…" Liam said, halting by the door. He cleared his throat. "I checked on your brother. Still no change. But if you can pull through, so can he. There's a bit of your dad in both of you."

She nodded, lower lip clenched between her teeth. She smiled at Liam as he left, thankful for the small comfort his words brought her.

"Your father will be missed," a SAM said gently. Relative to how the AI typically communicated, his voice seemed so emotive.

"What's going on, SAM?" Sara asked, frustrated and overwhelmed.

"This is our private communication channel. I shared it with him," SAM said, metallic voice tinged with melancholy. "It will be your best source of communication with me."

"Why did he do it?" Sara asked the AI, shoulders trembling. She held back the tears that welled in her eyes. "Why _me?"_

 _"_ Unknown," SAM replied. "but he never acted without reason. Alec wouldn't want us to lose sight of the goal. He said 'pain emboldens our resolve'; he'd insist we grow stronger from his passing."

"Yeah, that sounds like Dad," Sara said with a sad smile, reclining back into the cot. Covering her eyes with her arm, she sighed, determined to gain a few more hours of sleep. The events of the day sapped her energy. Considering it was now her responsibility to find twenty thousands souls a new home, she knew she needed her strength; she _had_ to be strong.

"SAM?" She asked the AI after a moment.

"Yes, Sara?"

"You probably don't have much of a choice, but…" Sara trailed off, unsure of how to phrase her words. "thanks for being here."

"Of course."

* * *

A/N: Hey, y'all! If you're liking the story thus far or have any ideas for content, please leave a review below. Your comments make my day and inspire me to keep writing. Expect updates every Sunday.

Love you all! xoxo


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